Don't be late, that's my job
by MissEvilHasArrived
Summary: Hermione was a normal girl and knew what she wanted, wasn't she? Maybe a certain Slytherin could help her find out who she really is and what she really wants.


**Don't be late, that's my job**

Hermione was a normal muggle-born. She went to all her classes, did all her homework and hung out with all her friends, she knew what she wanted to be when she grew up and knew exactly what kind of life she wanted to live. Hermione had her life planed out. Every tiny detail was thought of and nothing could go wrong; maybe it could. Although it was her first year in the magical world and her first year at Hogwarts she thought she fitted in quite well (except from the few people that liked to call her a "Mudblood" every now and then). But maybe she wasn't as normal as she thought, maybe see didn't fit in all that well, perhaps Hermione had left out a few .

In Year 1 the only thing she thought that could possibly make her stick out was her bushy hair and amazement with everything that happened in the wizarding world. But around, her girls would constantly be chatting about their crushes or how hot all the boys looked in their Quidditch uniforms and how their biceps stretched their clothes (often the boys' muscles were hardly something to be proud of, let alone stretch their clothes). Hermione didn't really care to talk any of this for she had much better things to do. I mean why would they want to talk about boys when they were in a school with stair cases that seemed to have a mind of their own and ghosts that float down the hallways talking to the students and gliding through walls. Yet Hermione couldn't help noticing how good Angelina Johnson looked as she raced around the pitch with the Quaffle, even if the paintings talked to you that wasn't half as interesting to Hermione as the angel out on the pitch. To shake those thoughts out of her head Hermione would tell herself it wasn't normal, girls don't think about other girls like that, they like boys. At least, all the other girls do. So the only explanation was that she was wondering how Angelina felt when she flew and how nice it must be to be all the way up in the sky with her robes flying around her and her hair swinging so beautifully in her pony tail and her eyes sparkling like-. No, Hermione must stop thinking like that, it wasn't what all the other girls where thinking so it couldn't be normal.

In Year 2 Hermione didn't have much chance to think about girls, or anything at all for that matter? It appeared having the Boy Who Lived as one of your best friends was a busy job. She spent a lot of time listening to Harry talking about the voices in the walls that no one else could hear and then (after he'd outed himself as a Parselmouth) teaching him about other Parselmouths and their dark history. Then, just after she had finished reading in the library and she had finally found out how the Basilisk had been getting around, she was petrified. Therefore Hermione spent the remainder of the year in a coma. Did you know you can dream when you're in a coma? Because Hermione did lots of dreaming, lots and lots of dreaming…

Year 3. Well Sirius Black was on the loose and apparently looking for Harry. Ron spent a lot of time hating Crookshanks because she kept chasing Scabbers. And the girls were looking even more interesting than usual. Hermione often found herself staring at the way their robes and clothes moved around their bodies, the way their hair would fly around in the slightest breeze, the way their eyes sparkled when they looked at Hermione while they were talking and the way each girl was a different shape and size but each one was just as interesting. It was like each girl held a secret that Hermione wanted to know, each one special in its own way but still just as intriguing. Hermione stopped caring as much if thinking like this wasn't normal, she couldn't be the only one. Right?

As the year progressed the whole school became more and more on edge. Dementors roamed the grounds and snooped in everyone's business as though they dissevered to know everything about us. More and more "sightings" of Sirius Black were reported, each one seemed to be closer to the school than ever before. And then it happened. Scabbers bit Ron's finger and started to run off, naturally Ron followed him not wanting to lose his families pet of 12 years. It was too late before we realised where we were (The Whomping Willow) and a huge black dog came bounding out of the tree, grabbing Ron and dragging him and Scabbers deep into the tree…

After their evening had taken its very unexpected turn and things had been sorted out, everything seemed perfect. For a minute it seemed all was good in the world (even if their potions teacher was floating unconscious). Then out of the corner of her eye she saw it. Remus Lupin had his arm slug around Sirius Blacks waist. Some people may have just thought it was because they were just reminiscing about when they were best friends but no, that's not how it looked to Hermione. The way Sirius looked deep into Remus' eyes when they spoke, the way they just couldn't keep their eyes of each other, as though looking away would mean they would realise it wasn't true. That Sirius was still sitting in his lonely cell in Azkaban slowly watching the days pass by him knowing he would be stuck there forever, that Remus would be back in his quarters with a cup of tea and a book knowing that none of his friends where ever going to walk in and tell him about their newest, stupidest idea like they always used to. That was no look of friendship. It was a look of such passion and love that Hermione couldn't help but think she had maybe imagined it.

Weeks after that night Hermione just couldn't get that look out of her head. Was alright? Was it ok to love people that the world thought you shouldn't? Maybe it was, maybe people wouldn't hate Hermione is she told them she thought girls were prettier than any boy she had ever seen, maybe it would be ok. And just for a few weeks Hermione felt free, she felt like no one could bring her down, no one could stop her from being who she wanted to be and it was the best feeling ever.

Throughout her years at Hogwarts Hermione had been thinking that there was something wrong with her, why else would she be constantly noticing the girls around her and not the boys? Most nights she would sit in the common room and hear girls giggling about the hottest boys in school. This problem became even worse in Year 4 because most the girls were practically drooling over Harry, Cedric and Viktor. Yet the only champion Hermione cared about (apart from Harry of course but that was different of course) was Fleur. The way her platinum blonde hair would shine in the sun and blow around her in the breeze, the way she was so fiercely concentrated as she fought the dragon, the way her blue eyes entranced everyone who looked into them and the way she looked in her amazing blue uniform that complimented every part of her body. Hermione never mentioned these feelings to anyone for fear that they might exclude her and shame her for being a queer. After Fleur had left Hermione thought she was ok again she could go back to just small peaks and crushes without her being to captivated by someone so well known, it was probably just the Veela in Fleur that made her seem so much more attractive. Then everything changed again when the summer holidays arrived just before Year 5.

Hermione kept catching herself staring at all the girls and could hardly keep her eyes off some of them. She told herself she was just hot and getting delirious because of it. But other muggle girls that had been out in the sun twice as long as she had still only ever talked about how gorgeous the boys looked walking around with no shirt on exposing there abs (which in most cases where nowhere to be seen). Yet she didn't care. She knew what a stomach looked like why would she want to ogle at theirs. When she said this to her muggle friends they just called her a prude, they said it was probably just because of the boarding school she went to. However she did catch herself looking at the girls so she couldn't have been a prude. Or maybe she was just comparing herself to them, looking to see what they had that she didn't. What if their tits were a better shape, what if their ass was too flat or too big? She had to check to see what made them so attractive to all the boys. Yeah that was it. Or was it.

When she finally went back to school after what felt like ages, things seemed to finally settle down in her head. She no longer found herself staring at other girls or thinking of various dirty things she would like to do with them, well she didn't get too distracted by them but everyone let their mind wander sometimes. That was until she noticed her. Pansy fucking Parkinson just had to come along and screw everything up. It had been a normal day going to her lessons, hanging out with her friends and only sneaking small glances at the multiple girls her mind had chosen as her victims. The last lesson was potions with the Slytherins. The golden Trio had gotten their early so they could snatch up their normal seats, so Snape wasn't there yet, then she walked in and turned Hermione's whole life upside down. She silk green cape bellowed out behind her as she entered, her short hair swung effortlessly just at her chin, her fringe covered her forehead in a perfectly straight line, her eye liner looked sharp enough to cut someone and her lips, her lips were wrapped around a god damn mother fucking strawberry flavoured lolly pop. That drove Hermione crazy.

Pansy walked with such ease and elegance that it was hard to not look up when she entered, but Harry and Ron didn't even seem to notice that such a beauty had just strode in like she owned the place, they were too busy arguing over the correct way to pronounce caramel. Although Hermione thought her stare was discreet Pansy still noticed her eyes on her. Cool and calm she marched over to where Hermione was sitting.

"Do you want something Granger or are you simply staring at me for the fun of it. And I must say, staring at me would be rather fun, I do it myself every morning in the mirror.", she spoke in a snide yet demanding voice that mad Hermione's hair stand on end and made goose bumps suddenly appear all over her body.

"N…no reason Parkinson, just got a little distracted in my thoughts that's all." Hermione said a little shakily, but who could blame her when a goddess with the looks of Aphrodite stood before her.

"Are you sure Granger because I could have sworn you were looking directly at me with a look of bewilderment and shook, or am I mistaken?"

"Yes Parkinson you must be mistaken for why would I be looking at you with a look of shock, I have seen you almost school day for the last 5 years, you have nothing I haven't seen before." At this point the whole class had arrived making sure not to be late and evoke the wrath of Snape and naturally they were all watching the discussion between the two girls wondering what exactly was going on.

"Maybe so, but I think you have suddenly realised how incredibly hot I am and you just want me to fu—" Snape entered cutting Pansy off before she could finished her sentence which filled Hermione with a great amount of relief because she was pretty sure of what Pansy was about to say and she didn't want to hear it. Not coming from her anyway.

"Miss Parkinson could you please get to your seat before I have to give you and Miss Granger a detention."

"Yes sir, sorry sir. I was just talking to Granger about how she was stare—"

"Miss Parkinson, I said get back to your seat before I have to give you a detention or even worse take, points away from Slytherin." Pansy shuffled back to her desk, her previous look of confidence stripped from her. Hermione was slightly shocked at the fact she almost got a detention because of Pansy but she turned towards the front waiting for Snape to begin his teaching.

"Oh and Miss Granger, you will be staying behind after class for a detention."

"Wh…wh…what! Pansy was the one out of her seat and I'm the one getting a deten—", Hermione spluttered furious at the obvious house discrimination Snape was showing.

"Miss Granger are you going to halt my lesson any longer or are you going to shut your mouth before I have to take away points from Gryffindor? We don't want that, do we?"

"No sir we don't". Confused Hermione took her seat and the lesson went by in its usual manner, minus the seductive winks from Pansy that made her blush heavily, thankfully her dark skin stopped this from being too obvious to everyone. Although Pansy apparently noticed (if the note she passed to Hermione was anything to go by).

Once everyone had almost finished brewing Snape instructed the whole class to leave everything on the desks rather then clear it up and he would see to it himself, or rather Hermione would.

As instructed Hermione stayed behind after class, with the note Pansy had slipped her held tight in her hand.

"Miss Granger?" Snape said in his annoying voice, that grated on Hermione more and more each time she heard it, from behind his desk at the front of the class.

"Yes sir!" Hermione said in such a strangely high pitched voice that she even shocked herself when it came out, earning her a look of disappointment from Snape. It was all Pansy fault. Nothing was working in Hermione's head since she was too distracted with thoughts of that tall, delicious, brunette.

"You will be clearing up everyone's mess and you will not leave until you have cleaned everything and the whole room is spotless. Do you hear me?"

"Yes sir. I won't leave this room till I have cleaned up everyone's mess."

"Good. Get to work. I will be in my office if you need me. It would be better for your chances of winning the house cup that you don't need me though." He said the last sentence with a tone that told Hermione he really would be taking away a lot of house points if she asked him for any sort of help. After Snape had gone and left Hermione alone in the sizeable class room, she decided to open the note from Pansy and read it. In perfect cursive hand writing, it read:

 _Dear Hermione,  
I am very aware that the way you were looking at me when I entered the class room was not a look of being lost in your thoughts. Rather it was a look of shock and wonder, almost as if you noticed something that you hadn't ever noticed before. If this is indeed true meet me in the Owlery at 08:30. If you aren't there when I arrive then I shall simple assume I was wrong (which I rarely ever am), then I will leave and never talk to you again unless it is strictly necessary. I know you'll be there though because I saw you blushing every time I winked at you, even if you though you could conceal your face from everyone else, you can't hide anything from me.  
Don't be late, that's my job.  
Pansy…_

She had called her Hermione. Pansy had called her, the girl she was supposed to hate, by her first name. From that moment on Hermione forgot everything she was doing, she knew she must've cleaned the potions class room because Snape had let her go, but she didn't remember doing it. She had to have gone to dinner and hung out in the common room for a while because it was now 08:20 and she was almost at the Owlery, yet she couldn't remember anything from reading the letter and now. She knew she must've gone up to her dorm and changed because she was wearing a cotton lavender dress that swung just above her knees and she had put on a gold necklace that her grandma had given her to remember her by at boarding school. It had a heart shaped pendant engraved with Hermine's initials, this was her favourite necklace and she only ever wore it for special occasions. Suddenly, before she knew it she was at the Owlery looking out a window at the gorgeous view.

After what seemed like forever but had probably only been about 20-25 minutes, Hermione felt a warm hand on her waist and another on her shoulder turning her round so she could see the owner of the hands. A voice that sounded like it should belong to an angel whispered in her ear,

"I knew you would come. I knew you couldn't resist me."

"Parkinson you're late. And what is this about? Because if it's bout before I'm sure I can expla—." Hermione was cut off by a pale finger being pressed against her lips and shushing her to silence before she could finish what she was about to say.

"It's Pansy"

"Wh…why did you—. I know your name is-. What?" Hermione could form a sentence for her mind had turned to mush and her cheeks were feel warm. Pansy chuckled at Hermione's state of complete bewilderment, the blush on her cheeks making Pansy feel sure Hermione was completely attracted to her.

"You called me Parkinson, you should have called me Pansy. Oh and it's my job to be late, did you not read my letter? But anyway that's beside the point. I didn't ask you to come here so I could question you, I came here because I know you're attracted to me, I know you like girls."

"No, no I don't. You don't know what you're talking about, you don't know me. And anyway even if I did like girls that doesn't mean I would like you."

"Hermione, I like girls too. And I have had a crush on you for the last few months." Pansy took a step closer to Hermione pushing her up against a wall and although Pansy was probably only half a head taller than Hermione, Pansy was in complete control of the situation and Hermione liked it a lot more then she thought she ever could have. There was nothing Hermione could do anyway her body was numb and her only thoughts consisted of the fat that Pansy had just called her by her first name to her face and that she had admitted to having a crush on Hermione. Pansy fucking Parkinson had a crush on her. Quickly Hermione recollected her thoughts and looked up into the ebony eyes staring down at her with a look of kindness and wonder.

Then, in that moment Hermione knew what she wanted. Who cared if people called her queer or stopped talking to her because she liked girls, the only people that she actually cared about wouldn't have a problem. Her parents were very welcoming to everyone, Harry himself was clearly gay (for a certain Draco Malfoy) even if neither of them could figure out that they were gay and all her other friends could either be supportive or stop being her friend. Pansy was all Hermione wanted and she would have her. Hermione out her hand on Pansy's neck and pulled her down for a kiss. Their lips locked together and sparks seemed to fly around the room. Hermione was free, free from thinking she wasn't normal, free from the constant worry of trying to fit in and be like everyone else. She was her and if someone didn't like that they could fuck right off.

10 years later:

Hermione sat in the posh restaurant swirling some red wine round in her glass, the seat across from her was empty as she sat and waited for her girlfriend to arrive so they could finally have a date. It had been a long time since their last date because they were both really busy with work. Hermione was now the Minister of Magic in charge of everything and anything that happened in the wizarding world. She loved her job so much and it suited her perfectly. Pansy was the Head Journalist and Editor for the Daily Prophet and she was more cunning, sly and much better at getting any story she wanted then Rita Skeeter could have ever dreamed to have been. Even though the two of them were only 26 they were two of the most powerful witches in England and likely the world.

People were rather shocked when they first found out they were dating however it wasn't because they were gay, no one seemed to really care about that in the wizarding world, it was their previous animosity that really shocked people. Though this reaction wasn't a surprise for either of them because they had been known for hating each others friend groups.

Hermione looked up as someone strode in through the door of the restaurant, someone who seemed ooze power and demand respect, someone who Hermione had fallen in love with many years ago. Pansy strode over to the booth Hermione sat in. she wore black stilettos and a match black dress that revealed lots of soft, fair skin. As Pansy sat down and picked up her glass of wine that Hermione had ordered for her earlier Hermione spoke,

"Pansy you're late." Pansy looked at her and raised her eyebrows, a look of playfulness in her eyes.

"I know," she said in a husky but smooth voice taking a sip of her wine, "that's our rule."

"Really!" Hermione replied in a cheerful voice, "Remind me again Pansy, what is this rule you speak of" Pansy smiled a wicked smile and leaned over to whisper in Hermione's ear,

"Don't be late, that's my job. And if you are you'll pay the next chance I have to bend you over and span—" Hermione kicked her under the table to get her to shut up.

"Oww. What was that for Granger? Don't want me telling you what I plan to do if you ever break a rule?" Pansy leaned over and ruffled the hair on top of Hermione's head messing up her perfect bun (that she had very carefully jelled into the perfect position this morning). Pansy had a huge childish grin on her face as she spoke.

"But I suppose you are my little goody two shoes so I won't have much chance to do what I want with you will I?" Pansy's grin and look of complete lust in her eyes melted Hermione and she wanted to break which ever rule she could next break. Are you allowed to make out in the middle of a restaurant? Pansy and Hermione sure found out the answer to that question.


End file.
